


i just freeze every time you see through me

by sultrygoblin



Series: these moonlight desires haunt me [1]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Best Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23625373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: one shot- peter just wants to make out with you, if only he knew that's what he wanted to do
Relationships: Peter Parker/Original Female Character(s), Peter Parker/Reader
Series: these moonlight desires haunt me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747759
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78





	i just freeze every time you see through me

**Author's Note:**

> there was no request i was just had this thought and this is what came out. hope you like it.

Peter doesn’t know why it bothers him. Why he’s currently stuck awake, staring at the ceiling, while you sleep just a few inches away, snoring softly and attempting to steal the blankets. Nothing out of the ordinary. But it didn’t feel that way. He shouldn’t have been snooping, that he would admit was his own fault and had completely lead to this moment he now found himself in. It hadn’t started that way, he was just running drills. It wasn’t his fault the two of you had walked into the kitchen when he was on the ceiling, clearly mid-conversation. He’d just stay quiet till there was a natural lull, announce his presence, and apologize to you and Wanda with an excuse about not wanting to interrupt. It’s not like you’d be talking about anything he didn’t already know. You were best friends after all. It wouldn’t take long and he would be on his way.

“So this is the fourth time he’s asked you to dinner?”

That question. If Wanda had waited a few seconds longer or if you hadn’t been talking about it entirely, he would have gotten out of there no harm no foul. But someone was asking you to dinner? You hadn’t mentioned. You would have mentioned. He’d told you about Michelle and the edited version of their break up. You didn’t have secrets, that was the whole point of having been friends since basically the beginning of time.

“I should say yes,” collapsing on one of the stools by the counter, “I want to say yes.”

The look you receive from your friend is not one that shows any belief, “You want to want to say yes. Very different things,” handing over a bottle of water as you took your own.

“He’s fun, he’s attractive. He’s funny…”

“He’s not Spiderman…” finishing the list and receiving a wayward bottle cap to the chest, “He isn’t.”

“That,” taking a long gulp of your water, “that,” pointing at the woman, “is not this.”

“No, it is. This guy, the next guy, the guy after that,” leaning back against the counter to give your friend a dead on look that meant business, “Whatever it is you have to figure it out or you are going to drag it into every relationship you have. I am very well acquainted with that fact,” though perhaps a more extreme circumstance it was all the same message that both women seemed to understand and he was clueless about.

{}

Who had asked you out? What was Wanda talking about? Why did he have any of these questions? He shouldn’t have these questions, you were his best friend. It was perhaps one of the most aggravating things Peter had experienced in your entire friendship and you had gone through puberty together. Maybe that was where it had all started to change. Not with his powers or the Avengers, just a boy and girl holding their friendship together through puberty. you’d still been allowed to stay over, both of you sitting behind a closed door all night because as Aunt May had said; what would you be doing? You had talked. About everything and anything two people could talk about. Rehashing old memories with new feelings, how confusing all the emotions you found themselves filled with were, how unexpectedly your lives had gone. At a certain point, he was sure you knew him better than he knew himself and suddenly it felt like he didn’t know anything about you.

He rolled on his side, elbow cushioned on the pillow, face in his propped up hand. He always told you that you always seemed to sleep like you were in a glamour shot, tonight wouldn’t be an exception to the rule and it simply made everything that much more difficult. Arms swept elegantly effortless around your, legs and hips cocked and perfect angles, as if posed simply to mess with his head. Peter knew you were beautiful, he would have had to be blind not to realize that. But that had been it until it wasn’t. Until he and MJ had argued for hours and it came down to a choice. He wouldn’t make that choice. When the dust had settled he could see where you had come from, wishing he had the chance to apologize for being such an ass, but if he were honest it was the beginning of the thought; I wouldn’t say no.

He had lived happily in that land. It was comfortable. A little joking flirtation here, an unnecessary touch there, nothing out of the ordinary for your friendship but with a connotation that required no discussion. Conversation would not be good, he had been sure it was simply him being a guy, your being a lady, and the two of you being so comfortable with each other. Because we’re best friends. He had slowly become aware of how many sentences he had ended like that.

“Peter,” it’s quiet, groggy, heavy with sleep and almost makes him jump out of skin, “Why are you staring at me?”

“What? I’m not-”

you yawns, wiping your eyes clumsily with the back of your hand, “I can feel you. It’s like being stared down by a terrier,” you nuzzle your face in the pillow.

He should make something up, pull the blanket over your shoulders, and try to sleep, “Do you ever think about it?”

It was as if time stopped, your eyelids twitched in a way they only did when you were forcing them to remain closed and still seem natural, “I would like to buy a noun,” he knows you’re faking now because there’s that hum, Aunt May would come to check on you, getting real close to make sure you both were actually asleep and exactly that would happen.

He clears his throat, biting gently on his lip before releasing it, “Like, if you and me…?” the opening is instinct, clearly not sure you’ve heard what you heard, “It’s just, I’m realizing a lot of stuff I haven’t realized before,” trying not to sound as nervous as you both feel, “You can’t tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind,” I know when you’re lying, hung heavy in the air.

Once more displaying why you are master of the eye roll, you roll on your back, “Oh you heard, didn’t you?” rubbing the sleep slowly from your face with your hands, “It’s not like that.”

“I dunno, sounds kinda like that,” he can’t help poking the beast a little, “Who asks someone out four times?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you groan, shaking your head, “Why do we have to do this in the middle of the night?”

“The same reason we always do this in the middle of the night,” dragging another groan out of you, “Why didn’t you tell me someone asked you out?”

“Because it’s not important, it’s not gonna happen,” finally looking at him, “And I’m not telling you who it is.”

“I didn’t ask,” almost offended before realizing he had no real reason to be, he was the one who’d been spying, “But just so I understand it’s not going to happen and you haven’t thought about it.”

“I never said I haven’t thought about it,” knowing you’d lost as soon as the words were out of your mouth, “You’d only care so much if you thought about it too.”

“Of course I thought about it!” as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You just stared at him, silence taking over the room as you both ran through what exactly had just happened. He dropped his head to the pillow, arm curled underneath the cushion, staring right back at you. He’s come to the conclusion at some point he’d moved passed ’I wouldn’t say no’ to ’I want to’ and he’s not quite sure when that happened, just that it did. It wasn’t just about thinking about it, that’s just a segue to the real question he wants to ask. The question he’d just thought about for the first time but somehow felt like he’d been thinking about it somewhere deep down inside for more years than he really knew. Peter had reached over and grabbed your hand a million times before but it feels different now, he’s crossed some line but he’s not exactly sure where that puts him.

“I think about it a lot actually,” letting him lace his fingers with yours, it doesn’t just feel different, it is different, “But, like, how do you tell someone that? How do I tell you that?”

“Peter Parker, please remove your jeans?” he joked, another eye roll was not a surprise and he more than deserved that one, “I know. You think being best friends would make it easier but-”

“Just makes it harder,” you agreed quickly, glancing down to your joined hands, “Can we finish this tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah, totally.”

Keeping his hand clutched to yours, he didn’t manage to fall asleep until long after you and woke up surprisingly early to an empty bed. It didn’t surprise him, it made his heart sink, but you’d always had your own way of dealing with things like this. And generally, it required a lot of alone time. He might as well get started on his day, he wasn’t likely to see you until late, if he saw your today at all.

{}

It was evening before he knew it. Between training, his online college courses, and a nap, time seemed to move far too quickly. He made his way towards the kitchen, working the stiffness out of his neck and shoulders. It seems you’ve integrated yourself back into the world of the living because he can’t hear your laugh. And another voice. Bucky Barnes. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. It made him angry, jealous even, even though you had made it clear you had no interest in going out with the man and that you would like to keep talking about what you had been talking about. But this was one of those stupid things guys do you were always mentioning, he should know better. He should act better. But he just can’t stop himself, maybe any other day, but not here and not now.

“Peter!” you seem to perk up when he walks in, your companion wilts, “I’m making dinner. Did you want dinner?” he glanced between the two of you, “Tofu spring rolls,” he would’ve already said yes but that drove the point home.

“Well, when you put it like that,” sauntering into the room, “You sticking around for spring rolls?” turning to the man he was determined to make feel like a third wheel.

He shook his head, “Not something I’ve gotten into,” smiling at the woman beginning to lay the ingredients on the rice wrap, “Not for lack of trying.”

“Everyone’s got their own taste,” keeping your eyes pointed downwards at your task, “Peanut sauce,” you stated, gesturing over your shoulder with your chin.

He doesn’t miss a beat, opening the fridge and yanking out the sauce he knew well, and moving behind you to set it beside the cutting board. He glanced at Bucky, who was staring hard at you, and honestly, Peter knew that’s exactly why he had done what he did. He’d never say that out loud in a million years but that intense, brooding stare is exactly why he did it. Just a small thing, pressing a small peck to the curve of your shoulder as he leaned back and moved to the end of the counter. It wasn’t like he hadn’t given you a peck here or there before. But always the forehead, the cheek, the hand, the normal places. There was something intimate about the curve of the shoulder. And the other two parties in the room seemed to realize that, even if there was no big gesture or hubbub about it. You continued on with your task, even if your hands were a bit shaky and you seemed to be concentrating particularly hard on rolling them when he knew with certainty you could do it in your sleep more than likely.

“I guess I should go,” the older man laughed, glancing at the new arrival almost impressed, “Be kind of weird if I just stood around and watched you eat.”

“Oh!” you looked up surprised, as if you had been in your own little world, “I’ll see you around.”

He nodded, “You too, doll,” smiling softly and making his way out of the room.

Your gaze fell on Peter, “I have no clue as to anything that just happened there,” you expected some sort of explanation.

“I just thought he was the guy,” it’s a lie, “And that you might want help telling him to back off,” A big, fat lie, “Four times seems a bit excessive…” and you both know it, “I’m lying.”

“I knew that,” plopping two rolls on a plate, drizzling the sauce on it and handing it off to him, “But thank you. It’s not that he’s not great, he is,” he sits down, trying not to think too hard about the words or the feeling they incite, “Yesterday and everything…” you shake your head, pattering into silence.

You eat quietly, he washes the dishes while you finish up, a regular ritual you fall into easily, “We should finish talking about it?”

“I thought you might say that,” but you nod, handing your empty plate over to him, “I just don’t know what else to say.”

“Well,” grabbing a dishrag and drying his hands, eyes trained on you, “I want to, you want to that kinda adds up to…” pretending to do the math in his head.

You laughed, “Yes, I too passed 3rd grade,” giving him the look, it was time to get serious, “But what if it goes weird? Then I’m out a boyfriend and a best friend. That would kind of…suck.”

Stepping around the counter, he stood next to you, spinning you on the stool to face him, “I am never going to stop being your best friend,” taking your face in his hands, “Don’t worry about that. Don’t even think about that. Take that out of the equation.”

“I can’t-”

“Yes, yes you can,” smiling at you with that look that always made you cave, “Just look at me and say the first thing that pops into your head,” one way or another.

Peter doesn’t recognize the look on your face and he’s seen every single one.

“You gonna tell me?” rubbing his thumbs softly along your cheeks.

You dove at him, it could only be described as that. Arms around his neck, lips crashing against his as you toppled to the ground. Honestly, if he wasn’t Spider-Man the whole kiss might’ve been a catastrophe. It’s not. He manages to take the brunt of the fall with minimal pain while somehow still being focused on the fact you’re opening your mouth against his. He’s glad he never truly tried to imagine a “first kiss” with you because he certainly couldn’t have conjured this. You sitting awkwardly on his ribs and he’s sure he’s squeezing your face too tight but it’s right and it’s perfect.

“That’s- that’s a very good first thought,” he muttered as you pulled away from him.

You nodded, “I freaked out.”

“Feel free to freak out more often.”

{}

“I really thought you’d cave after two,” Bucky laughed, leaning against the doorway of Wanda’s room, “Then I thought you’d never cave.”

She smiled, “Well, thank you. I owe you.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, “Just good to see those two together.”


End file.
